Even Wars Have Trilogies
by T0mat0-b0x-fairy
Summary: When World War Three breaks loose, the nations are divided on the battle field full of pain and sorrow once again. [Rated M for violence and language.]
1. Chapter 1: Allied Advancement

**Hello. Thank you for choosing to read my story! Keep in mind that the setting is considered Dark!Hetalia. Also make note that there will be a few pairings favored as the story goes on. The main ones will include UsUk, GerIta, and Spamano, but I will keep it pretty much fluff-free for the most part. Rated M for violence and language.**

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_Even Wars Have Trilogies - __Chapter One [Allied Advancement]_

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America emerged from the bush, his blue eyes wide and alert for danger. After looking both ways twice over, pistol in hand, he darted quickly to the other side of the dirt road before him, landing into another bush. He looked back behind him, and waved his hand curtly, as some sort of signal.

Another figure soon appeared in the bushes on the other side of the road. England looked around hesitantly before dashing toward America's hiding place. He was soon followed by two others. China and Russia quickly reached the other side, quietly sliding into the bush with the group.

But there was one more. Italy got up and ran, but clumsily tripped over himself, crashing into the bush with a loud thump.

"Ow!" England yelped angrily as Italy's boot collided into his chest. "Watch where you're going!"

"Sorry!" Italy whined, and was quickly shushed by America.

"Quiet!" America whispered, a stern look on his face. "You're gonna give us away."  
His crucially-toned response made the group blink in surprise. Normally he wasn't so serious. But, given the current situation, it sure was changing everybody's attitude toward things.

It happened yesterday at the world conference that was being held. As you would suspect, there was fighting among the nations. All ready here were problems, because several were actually getting extremely physical, kicking and punching. Germany had gotten up and started yelling at everybody, as this was the norm. But at one point, it actually got severely out of hand. Italy got up to try and calm the German down, but before anyone could stop him...

Germany had slapped Italy across the face.

Actually... it was more of a full-out punch.

It took several seconds for the silent room to realize what had just happened. Finally it registered, and Italy started to cry. Germany, wide-eyed and horrified, went to comfort his friend, but Italy instead ran to Romano, burying his head into his brother's shoulder. Of course, this didn't settle well with Romano, so there was arguing. It mostly consisted of Germany apologizing frantically, trying to convince everybody it was an honest mistake and he didn't know what had come over him.

The world conference was quickly brought to a close, in hopes nothing else was to happen between the two. Everybody thought Germany would be the one to take action.

But it was Romano that did the next drastic thing.

That night, the Italian air force bombed the country of Germany, causing several cities and buildings to fall to ruin. Including Germany's home.

Of course, the next action was to go to war. And Germany declared it as such. At first it was just Germany against Romano. Then all of Europe suddenly got involved when loving little Italy stood up for his brother. Quickly, Asia got involved as well, and then America(because he is such a hero, after all), until finally all of the world had chosen sides.

The battlegrounds had been drawn. Currently, the countries that decided to back up Germany were Japan, Prussia, Austria, Hungary, Switzerland, and… I guess you could count Liechtenstein, but she probably won't be of much importance. France had refused to help the new 'Allied Powers', and had already captured Canada from them to be a part of Germany's side. Also, Greece, Turkey, Belarus, and Ukraine had joined their side as well, but who really knows whose side Belarus is on? She's probably stalking Russia's party as of now.

The countries that are fighting against Germany are Italy, Romano, Spain, Poland, Lithuania, the Nordics, and America's group, consisting of England, Russia, and China. Oh, you also can't forget Sealand, Estonia, and Latvia, who wanted to be apart of the 'good guys', but really, they probably won't be of much use.

The Nordics haven't really done anything yet, so as far as useful, members go, Germany has an advantage so far. But, the chess pieces had been set. Backing out was no longer an option.

"So, are we going to sit here and daydream, or are we going to continue hunting down Turkey?" England prompted with an impatient snort, awaking America back to the present time.

America shook his head, wearily. "O-oh. Yeah..." he stammered awkwardly, quickly adjusting his small camo backpack and trekking farther into the forest. They were currently tracking Turkey's team. To their surprise, and advantage, they were being extremely easy to track because of their colossal footprints, and occasionally they had dropped something. From what they could tell, they had a party of 4, but other than Turkey, they had no idea who they were following. And they were following them closely, right on their tails, as the fresh muddy footprints suggested.

America was following the large boot prints that had been engraved sloppily in the mud. Despite how serious this whole war thing was, America found himself enjoying the long treks. He felt like a detective when he found clues as to where Turkey was traveling. Like a true hero. Maybe the others didn't like it as much. The only downside was Italy letting out small squeaks every time he saw an insect or heard a bush rustle. He was making it obvious he was not good war material, but I think everybody had known that-

His thoughts were quickly interrupted by a loud gunshot.

"What was that?" Russia asked, startled.

"Get down!" China wailed, and instantly, everybody was lying down, belly-first in the mud as a louder gunshot echoed the forest. Except Italy, of course. He was flailing about, screaming, but he slipped and fell to the ground just before a large Tomahawk axe was sent flying towards him, and buried itself into the tree, where Italy's head had been.

_We're under attack!_ America slowly rose to his knees, holding his pistol carefully, waiting patiently for a brush of movement.

Finally, he saw a bush rustle aggressively. Without a second thought, America had aimed and shot. The bullet exploded out of the gun with a loud _crack!_, echoing in the quiet of the forest. It didn't sound to have hit anything.

England rose to his feet, unsheathing his cutlass and stood against one of the trees. For a while it was dead quiet, the only exception was the soft whimpering of the Italian that was laying in the mud with a panicked expression.

England let out a quiet sigh of relief. "I think they're-!"

Just as he had spoke, a figure leaped from the bushes England was standing next to, and the intruder attempted to strike a blow on his arm. England was quick, and he leaped to action, blocking the attack, their swords clashing. His offender wore that unmistakable blue and red. You could tell immediately who he was.

"Hello, France." England scowled, pushing sword against sword.

"'Ello, Mon Cher." France responded, making a circular motion with his weapon. England copied, continuing to rub their swords together. The sound of metal scraping metal filled the air. "I didn't expect us to encounter so quickly."

"Neither did I." England replied, snickering. He attempted a blow to the hip, but France blocked, taking a small hop back. "It seems as though you're outnumbered." the Brit added.

France didn't reply, but instead started taking several steps forward with wild slashes of his rapier, driving England back a bit. But France stopped when he heard a click. It was a click that indicated that someone was about to shoot. Both swordsmen stood still, and turned their attention to America, who was aiming his pistol at the Frenchmen. America couldn't help but to smirk, waiting for France to lower his sword.

But then, there was the unmistakable click of another gun.

America looked around, and at first he didn't see anybody. But then he detected another bush rustling out of the corner of his eye. He directed his pistol towards the direction of the noise, and saw... his reflection? ... No. It was Canada. Hostility was the only emotion that America could see in his brother's eyes as they both pointed their pistols at each other. Why Canada wanted to join Germany's side, America didn't know, but it was driving him nuts.

Then another bush rustled, and two more figures appeared. Turkey and Greece walked towards the scene, side-by-side. It was a miracle they hadn't clawed each other's face off, let alone stand beside each other as if they were best friends. Turkey held a Morning Star, whilst Greece held a large axe.

America hadn't noticed China and Russia had gotten up off the ground. They glared at Turkey and Greece, eyeing them suspiciously as they walked.

"Well, well, well...Lookie what we found." Greece said softly, gripping his axe tighter as he began to walk towards Italy with interest. America could hear Italy's whining growing louder with each step Greece took near him.

"Please don't hurt me..." Italy stifled a wail, beginning to tremble.

"Hurt you?" Greece questioned, amusement flickering in his eyes as he took several more steps forward. "Why would we want to hurt you? If we had you in our possession, we can persuade your entire little 'team' to surrender. We could win this war already, no sweat."

China tensed angrily, slowly reaching for the handle of his katana. This triggered Turkey to turn toward China, aggressively swinging his spiked weapon towards him.

Russia jumped in front of China, blocking the attack. The morning star crashed into his metal axe. The unsuccessful attack caused Turkey to growl with impatience. He retracted his weapon and tried again, only ending with the same result.

This commotion distracted Greece, and he quickly got involved, swinging his axe toward China. China was prepared and leaped out of the way. Katana in hand, he swung, weapons colliding. England and France took this as a cue and continued to fight as well, spatting back insults at one another.

This left America and Canada to fight things out together. America grabbed a second pistol from his belt, and aimed both toward his brother. Neither was interested to talk it out, and instead of chit-chat, America fired. The gun crackled, and the bullet was sent flying. Canada rolled to the side, ducking behind the tree. When America saw the shining metal aiming for his head, he immediately dashed for the bushes. Not a second after, Canada had fired, the explosion echoing through the forest. America was now out of range, and was running through the forest, away from the commotion-

Or, at least he had thought so. Instead of making his hasty retreat, he had tripped over something and fell into the muddy forest floor. Thorns embedded their way into his clothing, and America let out a groan of frustration. He slowly brought himself to his knees, and quickly detected the cause for his failure, raising his pistol to his target defensively.

"I'm so, so very sorry!" Italy whimpered, cowering in the brambles as America had brought the gun to the Italian's head.

America sighed, but before he was able to say anything, he heard Canada's gun crackle again. The Italian screamed, and hopped to his feet in a full-out run. America followed, but Italy was too fast to keep up with. He found himself running through the forest alone.

A pang of guilt swept over America as he realized what he had just done. I left my friends there to die. Was he going to keep running and hope his friends survived? Or was he going to turn right around and help them out?

But what about Italy? He was more than just a pawn in this war. Turkey was right about what he had said. If Germany's team captured him, which would be very likely, this whole war would be over in a heartbeat. And now he had fled. Sprinted off into the distance, most likely to get himself caught. Or injured. Or maybe even both.

America knew what the right thing to do was. _China, Russia, and England can fight for themselves._ He figured. With a sigh, he darted farther into the forest in search of the Italian, not stopping to look behind himself as he heard the faint echo of Canada's gun crackling in the distance.


	2. Chapter 2: The First Captors

_Even Wars Have Trilogies - Chapter Two [The First Captors]_

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England felt the sweat on his forehead slowly dripping down to his eyebrows. The sword fight against France had been going on for quite a while. For the filthy frog that he was, he was certainly putting up a fight.

Starting to lose his patience, England retracted his sword and leaped, kicking his boot into the Frenchman's gut, knocking him off balance. As France was still unsuspecting, England swung his cutlass forward, slicing the sad excuse for armor right off France's hip. The soft, blue fabric fluttered gently to the floor, landing in a mud puddle.

France let out a disgusted screech. "You filthy worm!" he spat, taking a step back to recover. He then leaped forward, attempting to slice the Brit from above. England held up his cutlass defensively right as France went to land a blow, and the weapons collided once more. With a grunt of effort, France pushed forward, forcing England a few steps back.

They wrestled it out with their strength, pushing the swords against each other aggressively. Both countries were weakening, but neither would give in.

A loud gunshot erupted beside them, interrupting the duel and making both of them freeze in place. The others had stopped as well, England noticed. Though he didn't know why.

****Suddenly, England felt something burrowed into his shin. Quickly looking down, he lowered his weapon, as well as his defense.

The bullet had embedded itself in England's leg. With sudden realization, the pain caused him to lose his balance. He fell backwards, clumsily landing in the huge mud puddle.

Turkey smirked. Suddenly noticing the other's defenseless gazes at their fallen friend, he whipped around and knocked Russia's axe out of his hand with the morning star. Greece did the same to China, letting the nun-chucks and katana fall to the ground.

A figure appeared from behind a tree, smoky gun in hand. He smirked, and put his pistol back onto his belt, pleased.

"Great shot, Canada." Greece commented.

The Canadian nodded, turning to the bleeding Englishman. France, rapier in hand, had forced him against the tree. The cutlass had fallen in the mud, forgotten.

"Hold on..." Turkey said, looking around. "Where'd the red-head go?!"

Canada hesitated. "He got away." He responded quietly. The smug look he had was gone now as he turned at Turkey.

"And the American...?" Turkey was getting angry now.

"He did, too..." Canada responded. "I think they might have escaped... together."

America, you git! England growled. America had betrayed him, leaving him and the others behind. Blood trickled out of England's wound, slowly and painfully. Had you have still been here, maybe we wouldn't be in this position! Oh, when I get my hands on you, I'm gonna-

"Well, we still have three of them." Greece's sigh interrupted England's raging thoughts.

Turkey shot the Grecian a dirty look. "You don't seem to realize..." he growled, "That if we had caught the Italian nitwit, this war would be over right now!"

"You don't know that." Greece responded. "I think there's more to this than just Italy. Besides, it's getting dark. We should probably camp for the night, and be happy with what we got."

Turkey only responded with a gruff snort, grumbling something England didn't catch. "Alright, we'll find a place to rest tonight." he said. "Tie up the prisoners."

With a quick nod, Canada pulled some rope out from his backpack. France gripped England by the wrist and dragged him through the mud, over to where China and Russia were.

"Unhand me, twit!" England spat, groping the ground for something to hold on to. He was unsuccessful, and quickly found himself beside China, who was spitting curses. Canada quickly tied the three up tightly against a tree stump. He placed his hands onto China's backpack. China tensed, growling as the Canadian ripped it off of him.

England wriggled about in discomfort, watching blood dripping off his leg and making a small puddle on the grassy ground. His leg was burning, but he wasn't going to show any signs of pain. It would just give Canada something to snicker about.

With the backpack in hand, Canada walked away, toward the campsite. Turkey and Greece had started a small fire using the brambles and sticks they had found. Two red tents were put up side-by-side. England couldn't help but chuckle at how obvious they made their camp spot. With any luck, someone would notice the smoke in the sky and come rescue him and the others. Maybe America would actually come back.

The thought of America made England scowl. Why'd that asshole decide to ditch them? They were outnumbered until he left. He's a coward. England growled. A witless, fatass coward.

****The sun slowly sank to the west, and it grew dark. The stars shone brightly through the night. The rest of the night was silent, except for the cackling of the fire. England shivered. It was cold, and the flames weren't close enough to heat him up. Despite, England managed to close his eyes. Getting the most comfortable he could in the bitter wind, he fell into a light sleep, praying silently for someone, something, to come to his rescue.

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**This chapter is a short one. Sorry for that! The next one will be slightly longer. However, this one was already done. Chapter Three will actually take a while to finish!**


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